


Pokémon Let's Go! Hayato

by Angelic_Xia, Night-Mare (Aoife)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Pocket Monsters: Let's Go! Pikachu & Let's Go! Eievui | Pokemon: Let's Go Pikachu! & Let's Go Eevee!
Genre: Alolan Growlithe Yamamoto Takeshi, Eevee Gokudera Hayato, Fluff, Guardians as Pokemon, M/M, Skies as Trainers, Trapped in a video game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-29 23:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17817293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Xia/pseuds/Angelic_Xia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: One step off or so from "Master Quest"It's been years since Bossu was put into a video game and he seemed to enjoy it then, however reluctant he was at first. Maybe this will give him a much-deserved vacation from Nono's meddling? And ooh, Bossu should be able to be with who he likes...In which the Skies of the Tenth Generation are Trainers, with their Guardians as Pokémon.





	1. Your Pokémon Adventure Awaits!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["Master Quest"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880973) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare). 



“Timoteo Vongola, for the last time, NO! I refuse to marry some woman I barely know just so she can give me heirs! I hate all these heiresses you parade in front of me; either they have horrible attitudes or are after the reputation of the wife of Vongola Decimo or have had all the personality stomped out of them years ago. I’m only twenty-eight, and Enrico didn’t marry until he was thirty-five. Let me find my own wife. Now I have more paperwork than I know what to do with and it breeds like - what are they called - like tribbles. You are retired. Act like it before I send you and yours on vacation like I did two years ago.”

Boss slams the door of Nono’s sitting room open and stomps down the hall, not towards his office, but towards the labs, likely to vent to the Storm-man who is his right hand. She stays, still veiled in her Mist, to hear the fallout.

“Ahh, Coyote, sometimes I think that boy will never find a wife.” Chrome has to suppress a giggle at that. She knows Boss will never marry - at least, not a woman. It was what drove Kyoko to leave him and go all the way back to Namimori; while Boss’ interest had waned, Kyoko had fallen in love with him, and after four years in Italy, she just packed up and left. It took Boss a week to notice, and when he did he simply called and asked if she needed any help settling back into Namimori. (And there might have been a bit of a misunderstanding, and the phrase “Hayato would have understood what I meant when I said that!” might have been said.)

Meanwhile, Storm-man and Boss had by then long since graduated from watching things that would appeal to both of them to watching any sci-fi show the silver-haired man brought to their more-than-weekly movie nights, and Rain-man had given up not long after, had stopped dragging Boss to watch baseball and the anime they both enjoyed, and let the man come to him. The poor swordsman is still in love with Boss, but knows the tiny, lithe brunet has next to no romantic interest in him. He’d instead turned his efforts into putting the other two into interesting situations designed to get them to admit their feelings.

Storm-man had actually bought Boss the cutest game a few days ago, and the two of them have been enjoying it immensely. Maybe it’s time to put Boss - and everyone else - back into a game. It had been a few years, and Boss loved it then, even if he’d complained initially. Where’s that phone number? As she walks away, she starts humming one of the earlier themes she’d picked up, one of the initial overworld themes, right outside the starting town.

* * *

Tsuna wakes up, and stretches, and luxuriates in bed. He’d feel guilty, but Hayato had told him to take the day off while he dealt with the latest round of socialites and heiresses the Ninth and his so-called father had called to stay a while at the Mansion. Not that he intends to take the whole day off, but half (two thirds?) can’t hurt. Then the confusion starts.

“Mou, Tsu-kun, still in bed at this hour? You’re going to be late meeting with Professor Kawahira!” His Kaa-chan. In Italy? No, this isn’t Italy. He feels the underlying Mistiness of the world, mostly Chrome’s, and bolts up.

“Hiiieee! Kaa-chan? What are you doing in …” He tries to think through the haze of sleep and sharpness of panic warring in his brain.

“Ara! Chrome-chan called and asked if I wanted to join in this time! It seemed fun. Still playing Pokémon after all these years?” His Kaa-chan’s smile is indulgent as she comes over and sits on the bed next to him. “I’ve missed you, Tsu-kun. You barely even call any more. I know making everything mostly legal over there is busy work, but if you can’t leave, try bringing me over occasionally?”

“Kaa-chan, I’ve sent you tickets so many times, but you never came.” Then he realises what must have happened. “Oh, that man! I swear he’s happier sticking his head in the sand than actually owning up to anything, including the fact I told you years ago. When I get back I’m going to send him on a long vacation and call you to just TELL you the confirmation codes this time! Iemitsu’s gone too far. First the women being brought to the house and telling me to pick one so I can marry her and ‘secure the Vongola line’ yesterday morning -” his Kaa-chan laughs at that, and he smiles; it’s been too long since he’s heard that laugh, “now I find out he's been intercepting my mail and email when I try to send you tickets. Mom, he hasn’t been home in ten years, and I doubt he’s even called in over five. No, I know it’s been seven - he called that New Years’ to tell me I’d come of age and to get my butt back to Italy. He said all of seven words to you.”

His Kaa-chan looks down. “He asked for you, didn’t even say hello. Tsuna, I divorced him three years after that, on grounds of abandonment. He signed - and sealed - everything.” She’s looking at him now. “He still calls me his darling adorable wife, doesn’t he?”

“Mm. Doubt he knows you even left him. He’s like that. And I’m not getting married.” Her smile says ‘of course you aren’t’, though he can’t understand why she’d think he’s not. “Talbot’s working on the blood lock on the Ring with Kawahira-san, but Sepira’s work is tricky. Anyway, what’s that?” There’s a box on her lap, and she hugs him before handing it to him.

“I’m supposed to say your father sent it to you for your thirteenth birthday, but we all know that man thinks your birthday is on New Years’ and he’s never gotten you a present in your life. Chrome-chan insisted you get this first thing. Go on, open it. I’m curious. It’s too big to be a Pokéball.” He knows what game this is, now, and tears into the box, only to find an Incubator inside, holding a single smoky silver egg with a jagged, creamy center and little jade-green flecks.

He stares at it in confusion. “What the hell kind of egg is this?!” The egg wiggles, seeming to turn a bit. “Kinda looks like an Eevee egg, but it’s the wrong … oh! It _is_ an Eevee egg! It’s a _shiny_ Eevee egg! But why would Chrome insist I have a shiny Eevee egg right off?”

His Kaa-chan smiles. It’s a very Mukuro smile, a very Reborn smile, one that says she knows more than you; it promises Chaos and Mayhem and Antics. “Ara, who knows? Anyways, when you’re ready just think very hard about coming down to a nice homemade breakfast and it’ll be ready. I’ll let you orient yourself.”

* * *

It had been strange, to open his old closet and see cargos and hoodies instead of jackets and slacks and vests. No ties, either. But once he was wearing the once-familiar clothes (although cut differently, and he swore they shimmered as he opened the closet door), he had felt himself relax. Breakfast was strange, too, quiet and full of actual conversation, catching up on Namimori news and their lives, doing dishes together, the egg on the table wobbling and seeming to turn to ‘face’ his voice as he and his Kaa-chan moved around the familiar kitchen.

But the time came that his Kaa-chan had pushed him out the door after one last, long hug. “Go, Professor Kawahira is waiting to give you your Pokédex and Pokéballs. I thought it was strange no one mentioned a Starter, but given how active that Egg is I think it’s safe to say it will hatch by the time you get to the first town!”

So here he was outside what he assumed was Namimori Village Lab, looking at the broken-open door and grabbing the papers floating out. “Tsunayoshi-san, please, those are just props; come in. We had a rather energetic visitor who left quite a mess, for which I apologise.”

“Ah, no, it’s fine, Kawahira-san. I have to say, when Hayato said to take the day off, I expected to be playing Let’s Go, not living it!” They share a laugh. “So, how’s the blood lock research going?”

“We think we’ve figured out how Sepira did it; undoing the lock is … rather more difficult.”

“Oh, well, take your time. We have until I die, after all.”

Kawahira gives him a sharp look. “You don’t intend to have children?”

“It would be nice but …” He sighs, knowing Kawahira won’t let him avoid the question. “My specific tastes don’t exactly allow for children, Kawahira-san.” The Earthborn’s eyes widen, and he sees the exact instant the man realises; it’s the same moment the egg hiding in his hoodie jumps.

“Ah, I see. It’s a shame, to not see that strength and purity of Sky pass down, but I suppose that's who you are, Tsunayoshi-kun. And bloodline doesn’t always run true; look at Iemitsu and yourself. He’s a faltering coal, barely worth the name of Sky, and warped at that. Yet from his twisted, dying coal came the greatest Sky to ever live. Even my people never birthed so bright and pure a Flame. You are greater than even Sepira’s line, than Giotto, than every other Sky now alive combined. I truly regretted that you were the only one I could have chosen for the next Arcobaleno Sky, and was even sorrier for both not being able to let your Guardians stay with you and caging your Hibari. Thank you, Tsunayoshi, for ending it.”

At that last, there’s a bright white flare from the table behind them, and he looks over just in time to see a blue, doglike form launch itself at him, and the Eevee egg he’s been cradling inside his hoodie almost drops as he shrieks and falls flat on his ass, trying to get away from the dog his brain insists is going to kill him.

He hears panting, and feels suspiciously cool breath on the side of his face before a cold, wet thing pokes him on the cheek and he hears a tiny, broken voice. “Keeeh? Taa? Take?” His eyes crack open, and next to him, cringing and crawling on his belly, is a Rain-blue puppy, striped, with a ruff and crest and tail made of nearly clear water; there’s a tiny shinai on his back, the straps holding it made of indigo cloth patterned in diving swallows.

“‘Take’ …? _Takeshi_!?” He can’t be scared of this blue, Watery Growlithe; this is his Rain, one of his best friends, and his Left Hand.

He hears Kawahira mutter something about everything making sense now. “Here, Tsunayoshi. Get him into this thing before he breaks the lab again.” A very blue Pokéball is shoved into his hands, patterned like water (like Rain Flames) with a central orange band.

Takeshi-the-puppy cowers at it, and he pets his poor scared Rain. “Hey, you’re one of my best friends, my Rain, my Left Hand, and in Kyoya’s and Hayato’s absences, you are the _only one left_ I trust to watch my back.” He ignores the almost angry jolt the egg in his hoodie makes at those words. “I’m not going to keep you in this for more than an instant, but you need it to stop others from stealing you, and so if you’re hurt or tired I can carry you easier.” He decides to tease his Rain. “What happens if you run into a wall? Again? One-hit KO, and then where are we if I’m alone? Lugging your heavy ass back to town would take days!” Takeshi just groans a ‘Take’ at him, and noses the ball.

It’s not what either of them expect. Rain and Sky surround Takeshi from the Rain Ball, and he almost _hears_ the bond he hadn't realised was missing snap back into place, sounding suspiciously like the noise the Switch makes as the joy-cons snap back onto the screen. The Flames fade, and he hears Chrome’s giggle echoing in the air, and Takeshi just flops onto his lap, panting and happy.

Kawahira hands him several more special Pokéballs - one for each remaining Guardian and a few random-seeming spares - and a container of regular red-and-white Pokéballs. “Here. I’m sure I don’t need to give you the speech; go and have fun, Tsunayoshi-kun. I’ll see you at the end, I suppose.”

He finds himself outside the repaired door of the Lab, which had shut behind him, and he has to laugh a bit; Kawahira is always going to be a bit of a hermit, he supposes. He walks home slowly, enjoying the closeness of his Rain, and cradles the egg to his stomach. Lunch is a feast; home-cooked, familiar foods from his childhood, a taste of home, and he packs slowly, knowing this is the last time he’s going to see his mother for a while. Dinner is another feast, more home-cooked Japanese food, and after it Takeshi takes the egg upstairs so he can spend some time with his mother, watching a movie and talking a bit more.


	2. Congratulations! Your Eevee has hatched from the Egg!

He wakes up the next morning to a warm presence at his back, curled around the egg that seems so familiar, but the familiarity disappears as he wakes up, and by the time he can think properly it's just the egg from yesterday. A little puppy yawn sounds from behind him, and the warmth at his back disappears to the sound of a double thud, like Jirou getting down from a couch, and Takeshi whines.

“I’m up, I’m up. Be down in a minute.” A bark, and the sound of nails and paws on stairs.

* * *

It had been a good morning, if slightly sad. His mom had presented him with a bag that looked like his Nami-chuu schoolbag filled past his shoulder with food, clothes, various items, and what looked like costumes for various Pokémon, of which he can only access Growlithe ones. He’d immediately given Takeshi his baseball uniform back - the shirt and hat anyways - and it is completely adorable. He’s also seen a costume that looked like Jirou’s harness, complete with swords and a little perch for a _very_ small bird Pokémon. (Maybe a tiny Swellow? He hopes some of the box weapons will be joining them; Kyōya, Hayato, and Takeshi will all pout without their pets.)

So here they are just outside Viridian, and the egg is so wriggly he has to stop and sit down to avoid dropping it. Takeshi sits down behind him, forming a sort of strangely dry backrest out of warm water, and they wait.

A jerk, another, and a rush of multiple Flames engulf the egg as its weight disappears, and a tiny form drops into his lap. Immediately the tiny silver Eevee his Right Hand has become starts panicking. “Hayato? _Hayato_!”

The tiny thing in his lap freezes and looks up at him with large, adoring baby eyes. “Evvu-vai? Evvu-vai vee vui!” Oh, he remembers that look.

“Oh, I remember that starry-eyed look, Hayato. Same situation, I’m afraid. I’m not big; you can’t be any taller than half a foot. Also, you seem to be a very pretty Eevee. Blame Chrome.” As he says that the ghostly laugh echoes around them.

“Ah, Bossu, I was just ‘reminded’ that a Pokémon must be at least a week old to use a Guardian Ball. Sorry Bossu, Storm-man. Your Rain was supposed to meet you at the first Gym, not show up at the Lab. Sorry. Here, a gift.” Chrome drops a small custom Guardian Ball next to his hand before abruptly disappearing. Lucky, because …

“Vai-vui-evva?” Oh, no. Oh, crap.

“Keeh! Take-keh! Hly…hly…Ha-yah!”

Hayato starts spitting what are apparently rather nasty invectives (and it’s true, that language is no barrier to identifying swearing; it all sounds the same if you listen to the tone and cadence of the words) at the blue puppy who has just popped over his shoulder - and learned how to pronounce his Cloudy Storm’s name as a Growlithe. Oh, well. Time to intervene. There goes a calm journey.

“Haya, sweetheart, leave the poor puppy be; you know he can’t be alone too long. Takeshi, I know you antagonise him on purpose. Stop. It’s never been at all nice and now I can actually do something about it. Hayato doesn’t need you to antagonise him too; his life did enough of that before we even met. Am I clear?” He pulls the Rain Ball off his belt and shows it to Takeshi. “I am not above using this, Takeshi. You started it.” Oh, he must be annoyed, because the cringing look his Rain gives him doesn’t even make him blink. “No. It’s gone on long enough and neither of you have listened so I’m taking this opportunity to make it stick.”

Hayato’s been quiet, and looks stunned at something. Worshipful. “Evvai? Evvu-vai?”

“No idea what you just said, Hayato, but don’t look at me like that, please; I’m not some lonely kami in a shrine. I’m as human as you are, and I wish you’d see that all the time, instead of defaulting to this every time I remind you I care. Of course I care; you’re the first person I can remember who looked at me and saw someone worth caring about, worth being friends with despite my reputation. I just wish you weren’t so jealous about it. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not sending you away.”

He looks to Takeshi again, and says one last thing. “Either of you.”

* * *

It’s nearly nightfall by the time they stumble into the Pokémon Center. There had been so many things to do in Namimori (not Viridian, apparently) - which was much, much larger here than first towns were in the games - and Hayato had been his usual power-shopper self, making him go through six stores to get just four outfits to add to his bag, plus a few necklaces to fit his own growing form as the ones in his clothing box were obviously for a much larger Eevee. He didn’t even know how they’d managed with only one of them able to speak Japanese.

“Welcome to the Namimori Health Center, Sawada-san. I have a room ready, and there’s a hot meal on the table and you can use the bath whenever you’re ready.” Takeshi, of course, wriggles out of his ‘uniform’ - but not his shinai - and takes off towards the large shower room door.

“Thank you, Tetsuya-san. Too tired to question why you’re here but thank you.” He stumbles towards the indicated room door and drops all his bags in a pile. Hayato squirms out of the little leather bucket bag he’d gotten to carry him when the baby Eevee form - for all its apparent moving grace - had proven to have all the stationary balance of an actual newborn, jumping up to the table and settling next to the plate he was apparently sharing with the adorable silver fluffball; the only other plate had Takeshi’s favorite sushi piled on it.

“Evvu-vai? Evvu-vai, veevee evvu eevee.” Aww, the apology is adorable and he just wants to cuddle Haya forever. “EVVU-VAI! Veeeeee~…” Oh, did he say that out loud? The blush he can see through that pale fur says yes.

The first bite goes right to Hayato, of course, the little silver fox-cat needing the energy. As he puts the next bite of amazing hamburger steak in his own mouth he tenses. He knows this hamburger steak. Kasumi-sama had invited him over for dinner more than a few times in high school as Kyōya had calmed down and started settling fully into his Sky. Always alone, yes, but she was always so warm and kind and genuinely happy to see him that it had taken a mid-dinner assassination attempt on the Vongola and Hibari heirs to see the connection. Kasumi had simply thrown a knife at the would-be assassin and kept eating; the usually-high-strung Kyōya hadn’t even twitched, letting his mother do everything and simply ruffling his hair as the body was removed.

“Evvu-vai? Evvu-vai?” Oh, even Hayato’s paws are soft and silky against his cheek, reminding him of the few times he’d managed to touch his Haya’s hair at the base of his neck.

“Soft. S’okay, Haya, just memories. Kasumi-sama’s food is as amazing as always. It’s no wonder this is Kyōya’s favorite, hmm?” They settle back to eating, the large plate emptying slowly with how tired he is. “Need to get used to being something other than a desk chair ornament, Haya. Been too long.” They finish the plate, alternating bits of meat and potatoes and mushroom and something green and crunchy. Hayato is rolled on his back, paws splayed out, little cream-colored belly bulging and mouth stained with sauce.

He’s just coaxed Haya into purring in the crook of his arm when Takeshi comes back into the room and shakes himself all over the both of them, drenching them in freezing-cold water rich with bits of slush. He eyes the still-steaming menace as Hayato splutters and bristles, but decides it’s not worth the effort and just walks out silently, grabbing the bag with the new Pokémon baby-fur-care and bath supplies and his not-schoolbag, and heads for the bath. A nice hot soak and a wash sounds amazing, and letting Haya soak in that floating platform should calm him down - his Storm has always liked to soak until he’s in danger of just dissolving like soggy paper.

It’s nearly two hours later that he and Hayato - asleep in the crook of his arm - come back to a sleeping puppy. He sets Hayato down gently in the little bed his Rain had dragged from its bag onto the pillow and collapses into the warm sheets, Takeshi at his back and Hayato in front of him, and sinks into sleep.

* * *

He wakes up, happily groggy and warm, in a soft nest; it’s one of the softest things he’s ever slept on, and cradles him amazingly well. He smells sea air, and growing things, and warm cinnamon; he must have fallen asleep on Tsuna again, and had a nest built around him. It happens more often than he’d like.

Then yesterday resurfaces. He remembers voices and warmth and gentle motion, and then hatching into Tsuna’s lap as an Eevee, and being carried, and shopping, and that _bath_ , with the floating and the soaking and the lovely shampoo and Tsuna’s clever fingers, and the dinner Tsuna shared with him from his own hashi, and calling him pet names, and oh he must be bright red under his silver and cream fur. He’s not sure whether Tsuna had _meant_ all those things he said and did or if he was just sleep-silly from exhaustion.

There’s a quiet whuff, and a murmured “Shh, don’t wake our Sky; need to talk to you.” He’s scruffed, which pulls a tiny squeak from him, and carried out of the room, through the halls, and out the front door into a patch of sunshine.

“Hey, Hayato, I’ve been … really unfair to you.” The stupid puppy isn’t looking at him, but instead staring up into the sky.

“Che. Ya think? But go on, let’s hear why you think you have.”

“All this time, I thought you had it easy; sure, food poisoning’s pretty bad, but it’s not bad enough to run away. And then I ate food someone deliberately poisoned to kill ‘pest Pokémon’ and it was … it was horrible; I was sick for days. I used to tease you about hogging the shower or the tub on missions, but I never realised how disgusting it feels not showering every day; I don’t think I’ll ever not luxuriate in hot water again. I thought you had plenty of money in Italy, never realising how heavy cash is and how quickly it goes.” He snorts; that’s true of him, too. Lira was even heavier to carry around than yen, because you needed more of it; it took several bills and a few heavy coins to buy something as simple as a bottle of water or a piece of bread when he was a child, whereas in Japan a bit of bread was a single small coin, a bottle of water a few tiny ones.

“I never thought about why you ate all that ready ramen, but it turns out it’s really really cheap, and you probably didn’t have much after rent and bills and laundry costs, never mind chemical supplies and cigarettes. I spent the past few months - I know it wasn’t that long outside but time’s weird in here I’ve found - on the road, dodging kicks and Pokéballs and wild Pokémon looking for a fight, living mainly on handouts, never having access to a bath or shower, or even a place to sleep inside. I spent a lot of time lost, turned around, backtracking. I was alone and scared and I couldn’t feel Tsuna anywhere.”

The striped blue puppy is actually shaking now. “I was seen as rare, unusual, worthy of collecting but not befriending. So many people threw Pokéballs at me and swore at me when I dodged or hit them away with Shigure Kintoki. No one wanted to keep me by their side; all they wanted was a rare ‘Alolan Growlithe’ and as soon as I didn’t want to be a kept collectors’ item, as soon as I was more inconvenient than I was rare, I was worthless. It’s a terrible feeling, worse than when I was ‘Yamamoto, Star Pitcher and Namimori Baseball Ace’. You must have gone through much the same thing, with your hair and eyes and rare five Flames, and your … err … heritage.” Oh, that _stings_ , being brought up, so much that he growls a bit, more in annoyance at the fact rather than at Yamamoto.

 

“S’why I was so over-the-top about Tsuna those first few years. He wanted to keep me, and I was always waiting for the time when he wouldn’t; I tried to make myself too important to drop like a bit of trash, not knowing I already was. It hit me after a while, once I realised how universally Tsuna was looked down on. He saw me as his first real friend, not as a subordinate, and I didn’t get how much more valuable that was to him for a long time.” He flops onto his back then, wanting to cool his back fur down on the grass and warm his belly, and keeps his eyes on the Water Puppy Pokémon.

Yamamoto turns towards him and sighs, finally looking him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry, Gokudera Hayato. I was cruel and unkind and I will never, ever tease you about things related to your time on the streets, or your devotion to Tsuna on purpose ever again.” Then that puppy grin turns dangerous. “On one condition.”

Oh, no. “Which is?”

“By the end of this game, Tsuna needs to know how you really feel about him. Not the devotion or the friendship, but -”

“Not another word! I will, but only if you never mention it out loud where Tsuna can hear you!” It’s hissed from the top of the stupid blue dog’s head, having jumped there using his nose as a step and to close that loose jaw of his.

“Haha! No worries there. Tsuna can’t understand a word we say! We’re _Pokémon_ , after all. Can’t talk human yet!” What.

“ ** _WHAT?!_** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takeshi, you little shit.


End file.
